


the drive to seattle

by Zekkass



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Altmode sex, Character Study, M/M, Nonstandard interfacing, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Transformers Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 08:24:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8482459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zekkass/pseuds/Zekkass
Summary: Ratchet's taking some time away from the medical bay to go on a ride with Ironhide; fun ensues.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who knows nothing about Mount St Helens, Seattle, or the geography of Washington outside of what can be gleaned from wikipedia? Me! Please forgive any errors I make and just go with it. Ironhide sure does. ;)
> 
> As per usual, I've stirred in a whole bunch of my weird headcanons, so if anything's out of place blame it on me, not G1.

Ironhide laughs as he sits in the back of Ratchet's altmode, arms rested on his knees as he watches the road unroll behind them. "You said it," he says, enjoying the comfort of Ratchet's field - he's sharing a sense of contentment Ironhide hadn't ever felt before they came to Earth. "So where's this view you want to show me?"

"Still hours away," Ratchet says, one of his internal arms dropping from the ceiling to clamp onto his shoulder. "Stay put."

"Hey, I didn't move," Ironhide says, lifting a hand to pat the arm. "You can let go, Ratchet. I'm not going anywhere."

"That's right," Ratchet says in the pleasant tone he uses when he delivers threats. "Because if you tried I'd flatten your tires _and_ tow you all the way back to base."

"And I'm supposed to be resting," Ironhide says, just to earn brownie points with his friend.

"Exactly," Ratchet says. "Now come further inside. I want to check on those welds and you can look at the road when we drive back."

Ironhide pushes himself back and lies down flat in Ratchet's back, stretching out a little and wincing as some of his still-fresh welds protest the movement.

"What was that?" Ratchet asks, and more arms extend from the ceiling, running scans and checking Ironhide over with total efficiency, to Ironhide's bemusement - not that he complains. He knows Ratchet feels better when the mechs around him are in peak condition, and that it's been getting harder to keep them all intact without improvising. Earth, for all of its boundless energy, doesn't have much in the way of materials they could mine and refine into the materials necessary to replicate damaged armor or more complicated parts.

Hence Wheeljack's wilder inventions, hence their ongoing struggle for control of the Decepticon's space-bridge, hence their relief at pulling Skyfire out of the ice in one piece.

"Stop thinking," Ratchet says, poking his neck almost hard enough to hurt. "We're out on this little excursion to relax."

"Oh yeah?" Ironhide says, reaching out to take one of the dangling scanners and pull it closer. "How about a little fun with that relaxation?"

Ratchet extends the scanner, field reflecting Ironhide's excitement.

"Don't tell me you pulled me out here for a little tailpipe chasing!" Ironhide accuses, laughing before he works careful fingers over the scanner. The arm twitches in his hold when he finds the right sensory clusters, and Ratchet's field pushes deeper into his as pleasure lances through it.

"Not quite my intent," Ratchet says, arms uncoiling to wrap around Ironhide's legs and pull them apart. "Not that I'm complaining."

Ironhide leans up to lick the sensory nodes, catching another scanner-arm when Ratchet lowers it. He opens his panels while he's at it, letting Ratchet reciprocate as careful fibers intended for medical use push into his valve, forgoing medical exams just to touch him.

"I love it when you do this," Ironhide says as Ratchet restrains his waist, preventing him from arching and testing his welds while letting him continue to lick and touch at his sensors.

"What, when I pervert perfectly good medical equipment to make you overload?" Ratchet asks, and Ironhide laughs again. He can feel the smile in Ratchet's field, and the steady thrum of his engine as they drive, and he feels so good he could just about overload - not that Ratchet's sticking to any sensory node long enough to let him reach that edge.

"How long until we reach that view?" Ironhide asks, and it's Ratchet's turn to laugh at him.

"Oh, hours," Ratchet says, and one of the scanners twitches up to touch his cheek. "Running a charge has certain beneficial effects - "

"I know, I know," Ironhide says, and he redoubles his efforts - if he has to suffer on the drive, so does his ride.

//

Ratchet swerves on the road only once, fortunately in a stretch of highway without any witnesses, and the resulting curses push Ironhide to drop Ratchet's scanners as he overloads with a static-laced moan, hands clenching on air instead of crushing delicate machinery.

"Slag-sucker!" Ratchet continues, arms twitching. "You weren't supposed to overload yet!"

"Missed a beat, doctor," Ironhide teases. "I _like_ it when you're angry."

"Alright, alright, on your front. You're going to pay for that."

"Good," Ironhide says, carefully moving with Ratchet's assistance, settling on his front and offering his aft to Ratchet, engine thrumming cheerfully. He feels good, and there's never any real heat in Ratchet's anger, not here, not like this.

He opens his mouth when Ratchet offers another sensor-laced limb, and sucks on it as Ratchet pushes little tendrils into his aft port and valve.

Unfortunately, before he can really work up a new charge Ratchet slows and stops, reluctantly pulling his arms away before helping Ironhide up with the clamps again.

"Out here," Ratchet says, and once Ironhide's out he transforms, offering him a grin before taking his hand and leading him off the road. "It's just up here."

They climb a short distance, crest a rise, and - there's a human city spread out before them, full of those weird square buildings the humans favor. Ironhide stares at it - he's seen the city before, been in one before, but it never fails to stop him in his tracks. There's a bustling settlement of living people, and that - 

Ratchet touches his hand, quietly sympathetic to the rush of emotions Ironhide feels. He knows Ironhide used to work for Cybertron's cities as a guard, that he used to brave the wild lands outside of settled areas, fighting with Cybertron's wildlife to keep it from getting on the tracks connecting cities and harming citizens. He knows what it means to Ironhide to see a city here, one that's alive and unscarred by war.

Ironhide retracts a cover on one of his medical ports, offering his wrist to Ratchet, who plugs in and sends a rush of crackling sensations that has him shivering.

"...Thanks," Ironhide murmurs, optics dimming as Ratchet shares sensations with him, building up his stored charge in Ironhide before drawing it back out so he can chase his own overload without doing anything overt for the humans to see. It feels good, being this for Ratchet, especially here - he misses Cybertron, but if Earth has cities...

"Want to get down there and explore?" Ratchet asks, and Ironhide shakes his head.

"Nah. Let's stay here and watch it for a while."

"You got it," Ratchet says, taking his hand again. "By the way, it's called Seattle. Named after one of the humans who lived here, a long time ago. It's said he argued for protecting the ecology of this place."

"I like it," Ironhide says, aware he'll have to spend some time sorting through the human's datanet to research that. "...Sounds like he had the right idea."

Ratchet hums, tracing patterns on Ironhide's hand. "That he did."


End file.
